


At The Tip Of Your Fingers

by PerrinAmelia



Category: Original Work
Genre: Chick lit, F/M, Girl meets boy, Meet-Cute, Riches to Rags, Roommates, Suicide mentions, newadult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-14 16:40:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16044383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerrinAmelia/pseuds/PerrinAmelia
Summary: Caroline, has lost everything, her parents, her fortune, her friends and her boyfriend. She then finds herself alone in the world and has great difficulty coping with the difficulties she faces. When she no longer has a penny in her pocket and is about to sleep on the street, she meets Thomas, a handsome young man on whom she keeps running into.This is a translated version of my story "Du bout des doigts", written in French.





	1. Chapter 1

INSUFFICIENT BALANCE

That is what I was reading on the ATM screen. It had been three days since I had made a real complete meal and I dreamed of biting into a tomato and letting the juice flow into my mouth. It was over 30°C and I could not take it anymore with the diet of dehydrated noodles and sandwiches from the vending machine that I had been imposing on myself for several weeks, but my bank account was definitely empty.

I had not always been poor, far from it, one can even say that I used to belong to the good society, my father was the head of an investment company and we lived in a huge house of which I used to have an entire floor all for myself. I had never really cared about what my father's job was all about, he made enough money to keep his beloved daughter and beautiful wife safe from everything, that was enough for me. Before meeting my father, my mother had had a vague career as a model and when this rich man married her she decided to become an "artist". In other words, she spent most of her time discussing new trends with pseudo-intellectuals who were hanging around the house day and night. I loved my life. My parents loved me above all else, my father spoiled me and my mother had always encouraged me to develop my marginal side. I had taken many courses of everything and especially nothing: piano, ballet, silk painting, gardening and others. But what I loved most of all was writing, I had set my mind to become a writer and, like my mother, to spend my evenings with literary critics whistling champagne glasses and talking about a world we did not know, perched atop our ivory tower.

From then on I had lost everything. My father turned out to be in debt and when he had his heart attack at 50 my mother and I were out of business in no time. She could not stand it and one night she emptied a bottle of sleeping pills. In the letter she left she said that imagining life without my father was unbearable, but the bad tongues, which had previously been our neighbours and friends, had rumoured that it was mostly the money she could not survive without. That was when I discovered that all the people I thought were our loved ones actually saw us only through the prism of money and that without it we would no longer have much interest. With both my parents only children and my grandparents deceased, I was left alone in the world at the age of 22. My friends had turned their backs on me, too. And what about Jules, my boyfriend? The coward had told me verbatim that he was too young and too sensitive to tolerate the scandal and trouble inherent to my new situation. So we broke up the week after my mother died. I buried my parents, sold everything I had left and moved to a place where no one knew me to start my life over.

So it was in front of this terminal of the cash machine that I was now standing. I was renting a room from an old lady for the summer before the start of the new academic year. I now had less than a week to move before the student who usually occupied the room during the school year returned. Faced with the interstellar emptiness of my bank account, I decided to turn around and go home. The hot and charged summer air made me sweat big drops and hunger gave me a headache. I could have taken a bus with air conditioning pushed to the limit, but even buying a bus ticket turned out to be a luxury I could not afford. It was therefore the feet bruised by sandals whose straps threatened to let go soon that I took the way to my room. The thought of being able to remove the tight jeans that cut into my skin was the only thing making me not faint on the tarmac. I struggled to climb the five floors leading to the small old-fashioned apartment I shared with my 80-year-old roommate. She visited her family several hundred kilometres away, which allowed me to enjoy the space as I pleased.

As soon as I crossed the threshold of the shaded apartment, I undressed completely before lying entirely naked on the fresh tiles of the kitchen. I had only planned to lie down for a few moments, but the comforting cocoon that the cold ground provided against my clammy and burning flesh got the better of my exhaustion and I finally fell asleep.

I was torn from my sleep by a loud throat-clearing, I opened my eyes slowly to discover an angel leaning over me. The angel had soft, thick brown hair, powerful blue eyes and a sensual mouth with full lips. He had one of those faces that could be stared at for hours without being able to unravel the mystery of his beauty. That grabs us and makes us lose our heads. As I was in the midst of contemplating this apparition straight from heaven, I became aware of my nakedness.

\- What are you doing here in my grandmother's apartment? hissed the angel.

Not yet completely out of my torpor, I did not understand the question.

\- Politeness dictates that we answer when someone asks you a question.

That was when the ridiculousness of the situation came to me: I was lying naked under a formica table, my hair stuck and tangled staring at the belligerent man standing in front of me. I hurried to cover myself as best I could and felt the red rising to my cheeks.

\- You do not have to be such a frightened young girl with me, you are absolutely not my type of woman. And for the second time, what are you doing in my grandmother's apartment?

\- You were talking about being polite, but the first form of politeness is to say "Hello", you see, secondly I do not care what you think about my appearance and finally to answer your question: I live here, I rent a room to your grandmother so it would be up to you to explain to me what you do in MY kitchen, I said, beside myself.

I was ashamed to death, but I refused to let such a boor walk all over me even if he looked like a god. After all I had been through in recent months, self-esteem was still the most precious thing I had left and there was no way I was going to lose the last thing I had. I got up without giving him time to answer and too bad if I offered him a full view of my buttocks when I left the kitchen. I could not stand the way these guys behave towards women. Those who thought their opinions mattered so much that they felt compelled to let the whole world know. I went straight into the shower and let my tears flow along with the spray on my face. I had cried many times since I lost my parents, but I felt more cornered than ever in that moment in that bathroom with its old pink tiles. I was desperately alone, I had never really worked in my life and therefore had no real qualifications. On top of that, I was this close to finding myself living on the street. Rosemarie had allowed me to stay a little longer than expected without rent in the first few weeks of September, but I would not be able to stay much longer. The girl, whom she had been hosting for two years, was to return a few days later. I would have to give her back what was ultimately more her room than mine.

I took a deep breath and left the shower cubicle, dried myself with a rough towel before going back to my room to put on a linen dress, the only outfit that would allow me to face the summer heat. I gathered all my courage and headed for the kitchen where I found the handsome young man. He was sitting on one of the chairs around the table drinking what, according to the smell, was undoubtedly coffee.

\- Hello," said the Apollo with a sarcastic voice, "I am Thomas, Rosemarie's grandson, I made coffee if you want it.

\- Caroline," I replied dryly, without even giving him a look, "the girl who is not your type and Rosemarie's tenant. No, thanks for the coffee, I think it is disgusting. What are you doing here?

\- I came to see my grandmother's tenant, Julia. She told me a week ago that she was re-letting the room for at least another year.

\- That is the case, she has to come back in a few days, your grandmother allowed me to stay for a while, until her tenant comes back.

\- Then what are you still doing here?

I swallowed a sob. That is the question I had been asking myself for several weeks now, what was I still doing here and when could I finally leave? Not that life with the old woman was difficult, on the contrary, Rosemarie turned out to be a very charming hostess. However, it had been decided from the beginning that the situation would be purely temporary. By the time I find my own place to live. From the corner of my eye I saw Thomas who seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment.

\- You do not often answer the questions you are asked, do you?

\- Shouldn't you go home since everything here seems to be a disappointment to you?

\- This is my grandmother's apartment, one day this place will be mine. Not right away, I care too much about Rosemarie, but in a few years it will be mine while you take a nap under someone else's table.

\- I am going to move out soon, you can rest assured. I just have not found the right place yet.

\- The right place?

\- Cheap. And anyway, why did you come to see Julia?

\- Let's just say she and I are having fun," he replied with a smile.

I got the hint right away. Indeed, I had seen the pictures Julia had left in her room. She embodied everything that makes the perfect woman, she was tall with the silhouette of underwear model with her blond hair and golden skin she was the perfection made woman. I could not help laughing as I imagined the children these two could conceive. Thomas raised an interrogating eyebrow.

\- What are you laughing at? You were not so prude when you were basking on the ground earlier.

His remark stung me in the face and I decided to answer him immediately to prove to him that he could jump Julia in this kitchen right in front of me and that I would not be the least bit moved. Well, almost not.

\- I was just wondering what kind of offspring you two could have.

\- What do you mean by that?

\- It seems that handsome parents make ugly children. Yours would be really hideous.

I laughed at my own joke and a splash of tea, which I had just prepared for myself, escaped from my mouth and landed on the table. Thomas did not seem to pay the slightest attention to it.

\- Do you think I am handsome? Do you like me?

I bit the blush of the year. How could such an attractive man wonder if a girl like me found him handsome? Anyone on Earth, even Brad Pitt, would have agreed that Thomas was much more than just "handsome", this man should have been in a museum.

\- I think you know very well that you are handsome. No, I do not like you.

\- You think I am handsome but you do not like me?

\- No. No. Strangely enough, sexist and mocking morons are not among the guys I am attracted to!

\- Oh, yeah? And what exactly are you attracted to?

Good question. What men was I interested in now that I had nothing left? When I was rich I had never asked myself that question, Jules and I had been dating for years and I had never thought about what attracted me to him. It was true that he was beautiful and always clean on himself. He was always impeccable and his clothes ironed to perfection. It seemed natural for us to start dating, our parents were friends, we had always dated and everyone saw us already married and surrounded by beautiful children. The madness of the last few months had not given me much time to think about boys and even less about my relationships with them. I went to bed every night exhausted, and the only thing I wanted was to cry a good cry before falling asleep like a stump on my tear-soaked pillow. But now one of the most beautiful specimens of the male population had surprised me naked at a time when I was at my least advantageous. Not that I could call myself ugly, I was just commonplace and I would never be one of those girls you could not help but turn around when they walked into a room. I was just Caroline, the funny, clumsy girl we liked to have as a friend. Well, that was before, when I still had friends, now I was just Caroline the Sadie who was trying to keep her life afloat with pieces of stickers.

\- Well, I had better go," Thomas suddenly announced.

He took his cup and went to wash it in the sink, then reached out to me with a hand still wet from his recent dishes.

\- Goodbye Caroline, Thomas whispered to me, oh and by the way, nice little mole right under your left breast.

He left me like that, totally taken aback by his last words. I was definitely not insensitive to his charms, fortunately for me I would never have to see him again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day, I got up at dawn, determined to find a new place to live. Which to be honest was going to be very complicated, if not impossible. I had no money or warrantor to ensure my solvency. I had kept contacts in the publishing world and sometimes I was still sent manuscripts for proofreading, but the salary I was paid barely allowed me to eat decently. So my options were limited and I didn't have to be difficult. So I went to the cybercafé around the corner to check the classified ads sites, I entered my search criteria or rather the one and only criterion: that the rent correspond to the tiny size of my purse. So I found three results corresponding to what I was looking for, I conscientiously noted the phone numbers from the ads. Unfortunately the first two studios had already been assigned. I tried to get a chance with the last one on the list, the man on the phone told me that it was vacant and I could come and visit it in the early afternoon.

It was only 11 o'clock in the morning and my appointment would not take place until at least three hours later, so I decided to go to the cultural centre a few blocks away. The current exhibition was simply stunning, they were huge canvases on which the artist had made complex collages of photos and the whole formed the image of a magnificent landscape. Before my amazed eyes laid a splendid snow-covered mountain range, a heavenly beach or an erupting volcano ready to burst forth. I managed to overcome hunger in the face of the beauty of the exhibition and congratulated myself for my initiative. As I was standing in front of a huge fresco depicting a turquoise atoll, I heard a strangely familiar throat clearance.

\- You are definitely following me everywhere. At least today you kept your clothes on.

I turned around to discover a laughing Thomas dressed in a suit that suited him in every way. When I told you that this man must be in a museum. Yesterday, after the scene in the kitchen, I thought the sun had gotten to my head, that I had sunstroke and that I had imagined everything. In any case, the part about the Apollo falling from the sky to spy on us, we simple creatures of the shallows. But I was not mistaken. The man in front of me was still as handsome as ever, you could see the muscles of his bandaged arms under the thin fabric of his shirt. I have always been jealous of these people whose beauty was above all else. And by the way, how could one be so splendid? Did it involve selling your soul to the devil or taking fresh blood baths with each full moon? Seriously, I was convinced that it was illegal to have such a smooth and symmetrical face. Ken himself would be complexed by the absolute regularity of Thomas' features. When I finished contemplating the geometry of his face I concluded that it was perhaps time to answer his question. Just so he would not think I was a goldfish out of its jar.

\- I, uh, what are you doing here?

\- I am walking around, what about you? Did you ever want to see me again?

\- Absolutely not. I have to visit a studio in the area, I am waiting for the time of my appointment.

I returned to the contemplation of the canvas because I would rather not dwell on the details of my physical condition. I had actually walked through the doors of the cultural centre to escape the mouth-watering smell of food that invaded the streets at lunchtime. I had received money from the publishing house that morning in exchange for a technical text that I had corrected. The length and complexity of the task had allowed me to receive a much higher salary than usual. However, I preferred to keep the money for the first few months of rent and the security deposit I would have to pay to move. I looked up at Thomas and saw that he was still staring at me.

\- Do you like it?

What?!! What the hell was he talking about? Was he seriously asking me if I found it to my liking? A new heat wave invaded my face as I tried to keep my composure. He let a slight sneer escape before coming back to the charge.

\- I was talking about the painting, not me. We already answered that last question yesterday, I believe.

\- Oh, I replied embarrassed, yes, it's beautiful, you feel like you're transported. We really see the talent of the artist.

\- Thank you.

I had a movement of surprise. So he was the artist. I couldn't believe my ears, Thomas, that arrogant provocateur who had been teasing me ever since we met, was none other than the creator of the work before me. I would not have bet on it, a being who could be so complacent did not seem to be capable of such sensitivity and aesthetic sense.

\- Thomas, my darling, let's go away, I'm bored.

We turned around together and found ourselves face to face with a redhead with very long legs. She was also beautiful, her cheeks were strewn with freckles, huge hazel eyes in which all the light in the room seemed to be reflected. She wore an immaculate white dress that reached her halfway down her thighs and highlighted her slender silhouette. Thomas certainly knew how to surround himself with sublime creatures, as if you were given an access card to the very private club of beautiful people. A club where the average person, like you and me, would be excluded for non-compliance to physical standards. A place where they could live among themselves without being forced to live with our unbeauty. As I digressed tirelessly in my head, the stunner had grafted onto Thomas' side and rubbed against him in a way that clearly showed her intentions towards him.

\- Roxanne, my darling, even if I dream of following you for the rest of the program, I promised Jeremy I would stay at least an hour and we've only been here ten minutes. In addition to that he told me about a collector who is interested in my work and he would like me to meet him.

\- But it's so hot, I literally feel my makeup running down my face and believe me, you don't want to see it.

-Oh no, you know you are always gorgeous. Go home if you prefer, I'll meet you later.

The lioness pouted in disappointment but decided to set sail, not without giving her date a last particularly wet kiss and without giving me a single glance, of course.

I wondered how other people saw Jules and I when we were together. Looking back, I noticed that even though we had very close friends, we had never shared true bond. And even though we had broken up several months earlier, I felt a violent wave of grief take hold of me. Less for the sadness of the break-up than for the feeling that in the end my life had been nothing more than a dark hypocrisy. No one said what they really thought and the relationships were not based on anything concrete. They were merely contracts between two people who were doing each other a service. Maybe it was all vanity and pretence, but it had been my life and I had been really happy. Maybe I had never really loved Jules, but our friendship had not been faked. Even though he had behaved like a real jerk at the end of our relationship, I knew I could count on him during the years it lasted. When my grandmother, my only remaining grandparent, died, he brought me pistachio ice cream, my favorite, for a whole month. Since then it had become a bit of a ritual for both of us. Every time one of us had to face grief, the other would bring him a one-litre jar of ice cream that we would gulp down until we felt nauseous. There were also all the laughs we had shared, the long walks in the forest in autumn and the long, tender kisses we exchanged during the inter-courses. At the time I had the naivety to believe that these moments would last forever and I didn't take advantage of them, thinking it would be my life forever. It was strange that despite the financial health of my bank account, what I missed most at that moment was neither the credit card nor the beautiful cars. No, what I missed most of all was the warmth of human contact. It was the carelessness and comfort we feel with those who love us.

I finally decided to pull myself together. With my empty stomach, I checked the time again on my mobile phone to calculate how long it would be before my appointment. It was only noon and as the minutes went by, the time seemed to stretch and my morning confidence faded. I prayed silently that the studio would not be a dump and that the owner would accept my file, which I knew was very light.

I abandoned Thomas to his occupations and headed to the toilets to give myself a good facelift to make me look better. Fortunately, the toilets were clean, modern and spacious. The women and men corners were separated by a wide partition but the sinks were common to both parts. I put down my bag and took out my powder, eyeliner and mascara, brushed my hair and tried to smooth it with my hands, without much result. I put my face underwater to wipe away the ravages of heat and sweat. Then I started to make up, I had never been a big fan of all this supposedly feminine stuff but I had integrated it into my daily routine, going so far as to frankly blacken my eye contour during parties with friends. But since the trouble started, I had never had the opportunity or the desire to get back into it. I let out a long sigh and repeated the gestures I had made so often before. It is true that there was a memory of the muscle, although I had not put on my make-up for a long time, everything came back very quickly and I performed this dance with the precision of a metronome. New memories came to me, I saw myself younger with my mother when we were preparing to go to one of her openings. She had drawn imaginary lines on the ivory tile in the bathroom, which then became our dance floor, we would put on old 70s hits as hard as we could while wiggling like furies.

Suddenly, I laughed madly, probably triggered by this sudden memory or by hunger. Anyway, I was laughing. I laughed to tears. I laughed as I unhooked my jaw. I laughed to tears. I laughed to relieve all the tension I had been keeping in me for too long. Soon, the laughter gave way to tears and a migraine pierced my skull. The pain was unbearable, it seized me to the depths of my soul. I tried to call for help, but no sound came out of my throat. Only a long, barely audible grunt. I was seized with a fainting spell, I staggered before collapsing on the immaculate ground. Then everything faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3

I was woken up by a slight discomfort around my arm crease. Despite the pain an nausea still splitting my brain in half, I was feeling fine. I was covered in fresh linen and my head was supported by a soft pillow. I might not have been heaven, but it wasn't far off. I appreciated the extra comfort for a few seconds before everything came back to me. The cultural centre, Thomas, the bathroom, my faint...my appointment.

Oh god, what time was it? I had to get up, I definitely could not afford being late. I rose hurriedly and pain bloomed in my arm. I glanced at my arm and noticed someone had put me on a drip in my sleep. I finally understood where I was. The pale green walls and the smell of disinfectant, typical for an hospital, should have ticked me off way earlier. As I thought nothing could get worse, Thomas crossed the threshold of the room. I rolled my eyes and prayed to the sky this was a nightmare and that I would wake up soon. I had not fainted, I had not missed my appointment and Thomas was not there, less than two meters away from the bed in which I was kept prisoner. But my prayer went unheard and he started talking:

\- Ah! You're finally awake.

\- What do you think you're doing here, Thomas?

\- You fainted in the middle of my exhibition, I was feeling a bit guilty, I already knew I was an incredibly talented artist, but I did not know my talent could make cute girls lose consciousness.

\- You are wrong, it wasn't in the middle of the exhibit, but in the bathroom. It has nothing to do with you.

\- You are right. Is it a special habit of yours to just lay on the ground and catch a nap?

\- You figured me out! Every time I lay down like that I am woken up by a handsome young man. Why should I deprive myself?

\- Am I dreaming or are you flirting with me?

-You are right, the sun really did get to my head.

I put two fingers in my mouth and pretended to puke. He could not repress a laugh, and I could relax a little bit. I was at the hospital after fainting in a public bathroom, I most certainly missed my appointment and I would soon be homeless, but in that instant I felt almost good. I enjoy this moment of respite, let my head fall back on the pillow and close my eyes. I had not felt such calm in a long time. There was no reason for me to be this carefree, but I did not care.I just wanted to appreciate the softness of the moment. Maybe it was only because I hadn't flirted and laughed with a man in a long time.

I had never been a very pretty girl, but I always enjoyed using my charms on the opposite sex. I even found it a bit ridicule how easy women could make heads spin, even from men otherwise thought of as smart and strong. I loved playing the naive and silly little girls who pretended not to notice when they made an inuendo. People then called me "adorable" or "refreshing" while I was laughing inside of their credulity. That was another acknowledgement of the factitious life I had built around me, but it was frankly pleasant to go back to this absence of any concerns. I had almost forgotten Thomas was there before he recalled himself to me:

-You scared us, you know.

He explained that Robert, the janitor, had found me unconscious and had first thought of a suicide attempt. He then ran in the exhibition room shouting that the corpse of a young woman was laying in the bathroom at the top of his lungs. Thomas, according to himself, ran after me with fear in his chest. He had checked my pulse and was relieved to feel it still beating. He had someone call the fire brigade who arrived a short ten minutes later. At first they didn't let him ride in the truck, but he obviously insisted obnoxiously enough that the firefighters let him ride to the hospital with me.

\- Thanks, I said simply, What time is it? What happened?

-I think it is around 3. And I don't know anything else, I'm not from your family and did not know your last name so the doctors would not tell me a thing. I could stay only because they didn't know who to call. I tried checking your phone contacts, but it was locked. Sorry I went through your stuff. Do you want me to call someone for you?

-No, there is no one to call.

Once more I was hit in the chest by the weigh of my loneliness. No one to give news to, no one to get home to in the evenings, no one to tell me everything will be fine. I did my best not to start weeping in front of Thomas. With no succes, unfortunately. I had always be a big "crier". No, I had not lived through multiple tragedies or difficult times, it had only been a protective mechanism I had developed. Anytime I felt a strong emotion, I teared up. As a child, my grandfather from my mom's side kept telling me that emotions, sorrow and resentment were better outside than inside. He always told me to never keep anything hidden in the depths of your heart or I would end up bitter and plagued with jealousy. So, I had always welcomed my sobs with open arms.

\- Did I say something wrong?" Thomas tried, sounding unsure. "Are you certain you do not want me to call your parents, or even your boyfriend?

Tired by the last few months and probably a bit high from the drugs running through my veins, I spit the whole truth to this man that had not asked for this. I told him about my father's heart attack, the ensuing ruin, my mother's suicide and betrayal of our friends. I cried out my dismay that I could not stay and live at his grandmother's. Remembering my missed appointment only increased my distress. I let it all out. Everything that was weighing on my chest. Thomas thought me, no doubt, for a crazy woman, a useless girl throwing herself a pity party. He must have been telling himself I was just spoiled little girl who got a favorite toy stolen. Once my litany over I caught my breath and added with a touch more violence than I would have liked:

-So no, even if I wanted to I have no one to call. I'm stuck here, in this bed of pain while I should be packing my bags and find myself a bridge to live under!

I did not missThomas' sad and sorry expression. But then the doctor barged in to give me the results of my screening.

-Caroline Beaufort?

-That would be me.

He glanced at Thomas, who had found refuge in a corner of the tiny room before getting back to me.

-Would you rather talked to you alone?

Still high from my speech about the big tragedy my life had become, I deemed that after everything I just told him, Thomas might as well stay to hear the diagnosis. The doctor did not seem convince but did not press.

-First of all miss, I would like to know, are you currently on a diet?

I saw him subtly ogle the fat of my slightly to exposed thighs. And I felt, despite myself, what must be a mixture of shame and anger. I answered drily:

-No doctor, no diet in the plans.

-All right, all right. Because your tests put into light a few deficiency in iron, calcium and magnesium. As wel as hypoglycemia. All of this is often the result of a very strict diet. So allow me to ask again, are you willingly keeping yourself from eating food?

-Well, I am going through a tough phase and I don't have the means to eat as much as I would have liked, I confessed, ashamed.

-I see, well I already got you on perfusion for the deficiency problem and I'll ask that you be brought a meal tray. But from now on, try to eat a bit more, it might give you more serious problems next time and we might need to hospitalise you. I will ask the nurse to give you a list of instituations that might help young people in difficult situations, like you. I would like to keep you under observation until you get something to eat.

He then turn to Thomas:

-She will need someone to accompany her home, can you take care of that? And make sure she eats well tonight.

Before I even got the time to protest, Thomas nodded.

-Don't worry doctor, she will be under good care.

The doctor left the room, leaving us alone.

-You do not have to watch over me, you know? I am feeling way better, I can take care of myself.

-Not really as far as I can see. Plus I promised the doctor and I keep my promises. For now, what do you say we daze off in front of the television?

Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed the remoted, turned on the old TV set and started channel-hopping. When he found a replay of F.R.I.E.N.D.S I caught his hand by relfex. Its warmth and softness surprised me. I had not touched anyone in a long time and this simple skin on skin contact made me blush. But Thomas burst into laughter and I could hide my embarrassment.

-So we have a F.R.I.E.N.D.S fan in here today? Who would have thought?

We laughed together and watched TV side by side, sharing jokes, waiting for me to be finally allowed to leave.


	4. Chapter 4

I signed my release papers and left the hospital with Thomas by my side. Oddly, I had spent an excellent time with him. The man I had taken for a macho oaf turned out to be a charming young man that earned his keep by selling his paintings and the few articles he wrote for a local art paper. We had a lot of good laughs and talks. He told me he had been twenty-seven for under a month, that he had a little sister my age et that his favorite ice cream flavor was peanut butter.

When the nurse came to tell me they were letting me go, I felt a slight twinge. I could not wait to be back in my apartment, but I also did not want to leave Thomas. I would have like this intimate moment to go on just a little while longer. I had forgotten how nice it is to chat of everything and anything and promised myself to meet new people.

Stranded in front of the hospital, I took out my phone to check the bus timetables.

-I do not know where you live, but I am taking this route, I said, pointing to the right. Thank you for everything.

-You are not getting rid of me that easily. I'm getting you back to my grandmother. I know the way.

I did not have the strength to argue with him and I must confess I did feel some kind of satisfaction at the idea of remaining close to him a bit longer. I started toward the bus stop that would get us back to Rosemarie's when he seized my arm.

-Come, we'll get a cab, we will be home faster.

Thomas guided me to the cab area. We got in a car driven by a small bald and stocky man. He put the address in his GPS and rushed in the late afternoon traffic. The man had turned on the AC to the max and I was shivering in my thin floral dress. Thomas took notice and asked the driver to turn it down. I thanked him silently and the trip to the apartment started in silence. I enjoyed the temporary respite the man sited at my left gave me.

For the first time in over ten month I was letting another person take care of me. I closed my eyes and let the vibration of the car lull me. From the radio started a piece by Fleetwood Mac, I recognised the song "Caroline" from the first measure. I hummed the familiar melody that was the origne of my name, and seized by the unreality of the moment even executed a few dance movements. The driver peered at me in the rear-view mirror and encouraged me by raising a fist and dancing with me while keeping a careful eye on the road. Thomas was watching us with an amused pout and end up joining our improvised choreography. The atmosphere was still at its climax when we reached my appartment. The driver insisted to open my door and to tell me goodbye with a kiss on the hand. He scribbled his phone number on a old gum paper and made me promise to call him the next time I needed a cab.

Entering the kitchen, where we first met, Thomas pull a chair for me to sit on. He then got to the fridge and pulled out fresh vegetables. This surprised me :

-Where did you find all of this? The fridge has been empty for the last four days, at least.

-I did the groceries while waiting for you to wake up to check if you there was not an address book in here somewhere, but I could not find anything. And when I went in the kitchen to get something to drink and eat, I notice there was nothing left. I reckoned you would be happy to have something to eat once you were back.

-That is very sweet of you, I answered, embarrassed, you will have to tell me how much I owe you.

-Do noy worry about that, my grandmother will be back in two days, she will eat as much as you will.

I was not exactly comfortable with the idea of accepting handouts, but I was equally relieved I would have enough to eat for the next few meals.

Thomas cooked us up an exquisite ratatouille. As he was busy on the stove, we kept our conversation going. It was currently a turning point in his artistic career. A few big name around had been growing interest in him for a while and he was loaded with work. He spent most of his time in the studio attached to the apartment he shared with his two best friends.

-On that matter, he started, I thought about your moving problem. I had an idea. It might be a bad one, I don't know. But I have a room I use to store my new equipment. I was thinking that if I tidy it up, I mean my studio, I could move it there. So that it would free an entire room in the apartment. You could stay there. It is quite small and need a good scrubbing, but it is comfortable. What do you think?

His proposition stunted me. In a day, Thomas got from absolute douchebag to hero. I tried to find a reasonable excuse to refuse, but I must confess that it was difficult.

-I already brought it up to Marc and Nicolas, my roomies, and they are super excited that a girl might live full time with us. And it's not really like you have a choice.

-I accept but only if I pay rent as much as any of you do, and you let me pay you back for all of this, I demanded, pointing at the fridge full of provisions.

-Do not worry, the apartment belongs to Nicola's uncle he rents it to us for almost nothing. Hurry up and pack your bags, you move in tomorrow.

I was out of my mind with these news. I had solved my housing problem and I would get to spend more time with Thomas. My need to get to know him did was not only due to my breath catching every time I lay eyes on him, I also thought him friendly and funny. I had good hopes for our friendship.

One my feast devoured, I let Thomas to the dishes. I had started them, but he tore the sponge from my hands and declared I had to rest and that if I really want to do something useful, I should be packing.

Sitting in the middle of my room, I sorted and folded my clothe to fit them in my suitcase. To pay back my father's debts I had to sell most of my stuff. My clothes were one of the rare things I got to keep. Not that they were worth much. My mother, despite her love for luxury, thought it was silly to spend thousands of euros in a simple dress that would only be worn once. We would shop in the popular brands as most people did, although with a bigger budget. We would spend the day striding the shopping streets, then she would get me to eat pasta alla carbonara, the only deviation from her thankless diet. We would then go home, arms weighed by bags and the wallet lighter of a few hundred euros. When she died, I could not push myself to throw her clothes away even though they were a few sizes too small for me to wear them, I had kept them. They were in a big cardboard box that I kept in my closet. When her memory got too painful, I got her dresses and shirts out to be surrounded by her smell once again. And for a little while, I could almost feel her holding me in her arms. I had no idea how big the room Thomas wanted me to rent was, but if it was as small as he seemed to say it was, I would need to get rid of a few things. And so I took stock of my stuff to know which ones I was ready to say goodbye to.

After nearing three hours, I managed to separate everything. I could move the day after without a doubt. Thomas, once he was done with the dishes, came to me to say he had to get back home to empty out the room. He had put his number in my phone and insisted I call him if I was feeling faint again.

Laying in my bed for my last night at Rosemarie's, I thought back on the last few days' events. The day before I was alone, hungry and essentially homeless and then I was full with three servings of ratatouille prepared by, who I hoped was, a friend and was getting ready to move in an apartment with three boys for a laughable rent. The luck was shining on me again and I still could not believe it. I was having a hard time telling myself I was almost out of the funk I was drowning in for almost a year. The horizon seemed to finally clear out and I wondered what would happen in the future. After months living day to day I had finally reached my goal. Even though I was relieved to see the end of my problems nearing, something scary downed on me. I had cried my parents and my old life a lot, but I still did not grieved completely. Indeed, the avalanche of worries that fell on me had, in a way, gave me something else to focus on. I spent all my energy trying to piece my torn up life back together and in the end, I did not get the time to say goodbye to my parents as I would have wished it. Sometimes I even imagined they were still here. I found myself talking to them and imagine what they would answer. I would now have to accept that I had lost them. I did not know yet if I had it in me, but I knew it would be a long-winded work. On that thought, and the promise I would see Thomas again the next day, I fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Thomas fetched me way too early that morning, while I was still asleep. It wasn't even 8 am when I heard a knock on the door, and at first thought it was my neighbour going to work, but the knocks got more and more pressing and I ended up getting up. I, wearing a Harry Potter night shirt, my hair looking like a crow's nest, opened the door to Thomas, looking fresh as rain. He was close shaven and his still wet hair smelt like sandalwood. Might as well say I looked like an old mop standing next to him, but since he'd already seen me in way worse conditions, I let it slide. I was not quite awake yet but still noticed the paper bag in his right hand.

-Good morning Caroline, he greeted me formally. I hope you are feeling better today because I brought you croissants.

I stepped back to let him walk into the apartment. He went to the kitchen and I followed him automatically. Silently, we brewed coffee for him and tea for me, then sat facing each other for breakfast. Neither of us felt the need to talk and I welcomed this new found calmness. I glanced at Thomas and noticed he was staring at me with an odd gaze.

-Nice pajamas, he remarked gulping down his steaming coffe.

I looked down on my Slytherin pride shirt. That had been a gift from Jules when the last movie had come out on the big screen. It was a few years old and the colours had passed a long time ago. I noticed that frequent washing had distanded the cheap fabric and gaped around the cleavage, revealing more flesh than I would have liked. I pulled the top of my shirt up to hide it better.

-You do not have to be so shy, Caroline, may I remind you the first time I saw you you were completely naked.

I blushed bright red at the humiliating memory. I bit into my croissant and raised my bowl to my lips to hide my furious blush. Once we were done, I grabbed the dishes so Thomas would not be the one doing them once again. He objected, but when I would not stand down he gave up and went in my room to start moving my belonging, freshly packed, to his car. I finished the dishes as fast as I could and rushed to swipe the table. I hurried to the bathroom to shower and get dressed. As the day would be dedicated to my move, no need to feel coquettish, I chose a wide white shirt and a black legging. I tied my hair in a ponytail and went up to Thomas who was almost done loading my boxes. By some sort of miracle, his car was large enough to contain the entirety of my mess.

We sat in the front and Thomas switched on the ignition. As we drove towards my new apartment, I felt worry start to gnaw at me. Maybe I had been to quick to accept his proposition. It was an unhoped for offer, but it did mean living in close quarters with three perfect strangers.

-I did not think to tell you but your room is not furnished. We might need to go somewhere to buy you a bed and a wardrobe. Would that be okay? I mean... financially.

I did the math in my head and concluded that, since I would not need to pay a security deposit, I could afford to spend some money for housing. Of course it would not be a king size canopy bed made out of solid wood, I used to fall asleep in when my parents were still alive. But a swedish bed in a kit would suit me perfectly.

A huge bag at my feet forced me to sit crossed legged. The position was not the most comfortable, but Thomas had promised the ride would not last too long. I heard the beeping of my phone warning me of a new text message. I took out the device and scrolled to my inbox. My handler at the publishing house had just sent me a new typescript to edit. I was a romance novel, another story about the prince and the shepherdess. The work promised to be easy, but not that fascinating. As I read through the first chapter, Thomas took a turn a bit too tight and I fell to the left. My knee collided with his hand on the shift. I cried out in surprise and my phone flew out of my hands. Thomas turned to me, looking worried:

-Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, I know I am a very bad driver.

-Do not worry, more shaken than injured, I was just surprised. Sorry I shouted, I know it is not the best thing to do in a moving car.

I picked up my phone on the ground and let Thomas drive us peacefully to his home.

He took a turn in one of the poshest neighbourhoods in town and parked in front of a white stones building, both old and elegant. A high gate of forged iron surrounded the property borded with flowers. I instantly fell in love with the place that reminded me of the country house that belong to my ex boyfriend's parents.

Every summer since we were 8-years-old, we spent our August in an old farm that his father, a famous novelist, had just bought to come, unwind, and devote himself to writing his novels. The house had been surrounded by daisies in which we would play hide and seek. Every day we would fetch fresh milk from the morning's milking, and we would dip in large slices of country bred covered in a thick layer of jam. Growing up we had given up our childish games and let our skin burn in the afternoon sun. The year we turned 16, as we were exploring, we found and old shack that we used to hide from our parents to kiss. Our loving cuddles got heated, and, eventually, dizzy with need, we made love. It was the first time for both teenagers that we were back then and I kept a very fond and romantic, even though painful, memory of the time.

Thomas opened the gate and got me in the garden. He pushed open the front door and I walked in, not an apartment as he has implied, but a lovely house. The decorating and furnishing were simple and chosen with taste. Everything was in tones of white and beige, giving me a feeling of tranquility. The zen atmosphere it gave seduced me on the spot and I could not wait to explore the rest of it, and meet my new roommates. As if he could read my thought, Thomas told me:

-Marc and Nico are working right now, we will see them at dinner tonight. Maybe we can even go out for a drink to celebrate you moving in with us. That would allow us to get to know each other better. What do you think?

-This is a fantastic idea, I cannot wait to meet them.

We walked through the rest of the house. The atmosphere was favourable to meditation all around us. The doubts I had in the car started to fade and I sighed in relief. Thomas showed me the staircase:

-Up there, first floor is our, the guys, rooms. There's also a bathroom.

We climbed up and found three rooms each more wide than the other. They were all impeccably tidy and took note to make sure I would do the same for the duration of our cohabitation. I was not a very neat person and often let my stuff on the floor or on my bed. AS a child we had a maid, Anna, who took care of my room every day. However my father always made a point to make me tidy it myself. In truth, the kind Anna took pity on me and did it for me, then we would lie to my father so he would think I had been the one doing all the work. But now that I thought about it, I was a little bit ashamed of these ploys.

The bathroom was exceptionally clean as well, there was a large bathtub and two wide sinks. The window, that took an entire wall, let the sun in incredibly. The room was bathed in light and I could already see myself immersed in a hot bath surrounded in a halo of light. Further down the corridor was a second staircase.

-Here, the tour is almost over. The flight of stairs go up to the second floor, that's where your room is.

My floor was a loft that, despite what Thomas had told me, was incredibly spacious.

-This is immense! I expected a closet under the stairs or a storeroom after what you told me!

-Maybe but look at the ceiling height. You lose a lot of space there.

-Have you seen me? I am tiny, I fit anywhere.

-It is true that you are not very tall, he granted with a laugh. Let's get your stuff, I think it's time you settle in. After that we'll go buy you some furniture. If we time it right, we can be done by the times the boys are back. And then we can get ready for a great evening.

We went back down the stairs and started empting his car.


	6. Chapter 6

Once the boxes stored in my room, Thomas and I got back in the car to get to the furniture in a kit giant, a bit outside of town. It was a Tuesday, in the middle of the day, but it was still crowded. We went straight to the bed department. The range of products meant a wide range of prices, and I look at entry-level products. I quickly chose a bed structure in ornate white iron. The style was both simple and elegant, but fitting with the budget I was keeping in mind. I took notes of the product reference code on a piece of paper provided by the store. I also needed a mattress , where it was open to any wallet as well. I never had to buy this kind of things myself, and felt a little lost between the different types of stuffing and cushioning levels. Seeing my lost expression, Thomas explained the process to me:

-I think you need to try them, to feel for what fits you the best.

I first tried the one showing the lowest price. The mattress was very firm and not that comfortable. I passed. The second one was way to soft and seeing how I was wriggling like an eel, Thomas decided to join me. He threw himself on the mattress, making me bounce. I guffawed as I fell back with the grace of an elephant.

-There is physical proof that this one is way too soft for my tastes. No way am I sleeping on a trampoline.

-Oh, Caroline, you must confess this would be hilarious in certain situations, he teased.

I answered with a blow on the head with a pillow, that didn't help with my fit of giggles.

-You are not getting away with this young lady!

He caught me by the hips and started tickling me and I snorted noisily. Some customers' head turned towards us. Some even glared, but I caught a young couple, shopping, that winked at us. They were probably figuring that we were here for the same reasons they did. I did not know if the idea pleased me or made me uneasy. In any case, I regain my composure to correct any misunderstandings. More for myself than the others. I tried on a third mattress that, according to the sign about it, had gotten the “2018 prize for comfort”. Indeed it was both firm and soft. I switched sides a few times to certain of my choice. To tell the truth, I could even have stolen an afternoon nap. Once again, Thomas joined me on the bed, laying next to me. I turned on my side to face him.

We were laying one in front of the other, staring one another in the eyes, in perfect silence. I studied his face and noticed q string of three tiny moles on the corner of his right eye. I had the irrepressible impulse to reach out and touch him. I raised my hand towards his face and he didn't flinch. Just as my fingers were about to reach his skin, a voice behind me interrupted :

-Good afternoon, may I help you? Asked the shrill voice.

I turned around the face a minuscule brunette. She could not be more than 15 but wore the blue and yellow shirt, making her stand out as a store employee. Thomas and I rose up. And the tiny lady opened wide eyes and threw me an unreadable look. She must have caught our scene a few minutes earlier and wondered what a man like Thomas could be doing with a girl like me. I was getting tired of always being judge based on my physical appearance and it took all the will in the world to keep from blowing her off.

-Yes, I answered drily, I am looking for a mattress, and I want this one. I assume you make home deliveries?

Not at all fazed by my tone, she remained entirely professional.

-Absolutely, we have an excellent delivery service. However, the mattress is available in a roll at the back of the store for easy hauling. Jut let me print your purchase order.

I followed her to her counter, more and more uncomfortable with the insisting looks she was throwing Thomas and I. She took more time than necessary to print my order and I grit my teeth to not seem too rude. I suspected she took her sweet time to bask in the presence of the man standing with me. I almost wanted to take his hand just to annoy her, but I swallowed my pride and argued to myself this would be childish.

Heck, Caroline! You are better than that, big girl!

After what seemed like an eternity, the brunette gave me, finally!, the piece of paper I had been waiting after. My anger at more respectable levels, we made our way to wardrobes and night stands. I chose white and impersonal furniture. I did the math of the combine amount and happily found out that I was still largely in my budget. I could afford a small lamp for the desk Thomas had promised to gift me. According to him, an old thing gathering dust in his studio that he had no use for. Too happy To have some place to work on my editing I had jumped in his arms and kissed him on both cheeks.

In the warehouse, we found all my purchases and we went to the check out to pay for it all. When I took my order from my purse, I noticed a little cardboard card stapled at the back of the paper. I detached it and read the note scribbled on it:

Caroline, please forgive my irregular behaviour, but I thought you were very pretty and would like to see you again. Here's my number.

Melody

 

I froze. It was not because of Thomas presence that the young girl had taken her time, it was because of mine. I suddenly felt ashamed of the way I treated her. My insecurities made me take it out on Melody very rudely, even though she was only trying to find a way to get in touch with me. Even if I was not interested, I promised myself I would text her to apologise for my rude behaviour.

-Caroline, is everything all right? I thought you had enough to afford everything, Thomas asked, getting closer.

He read the note I was still holding and let out a long whistle.

-I must say there is not many people whose head you do not turn, my dear Caroline, I will end up jealous if you get more popular than I am. You should invite her to join us tonight.

-I am not really into it and I have no desire to get involved in a relationship right now.

-Good for me, it will be less competition, he joked, puffing out his chest and shoulders.

It was ridiculous but I could not help but laugh. Sometimes I felt like I was leaving my brain in he changing room when Thomas was around. I was turning into the kind of girls I despised, the ones that giggled at any jokes from the man they liked. I would need to pull myself together if I wanted this roommates situation to go smoothly.

I paid and we loaded the car full to the brim with furniture kit in cardboard boxes. On the way back Thomas asked questioned me on my relationship with Jules and on why we broke up. I told him how our parents already knew each other years before our birth. Our mothers had gotten pregnant almost at the same time. I was older than him by eleven days, Jules took these eleven days windows during which I was a year older than him to tease me. He would call me Granny and pretended I was the evil Boogey Man coming to steal his innocence. When we were kids, we would spend our weekends at one or the other's house then see each other on Monday again at school, sitting at the same desk. Every family reunion we would slip away together to put on “shows” for our parents. We started going out when we were 12. We were at the birthday party of our friend Madeline, playing the bottle and we were chosen to kiss. I was not sure I wanted to, but I was scared to be called a chicken by my little friends. When he saw me waver, Jules had whispered in my ear that I did not have to do it if I did not want to. His care achieved to convince me. He became my boyfriend that very day. And then we never let go of one another. After the infamous summer where we gave ourselves to each other we had not been able to sleep over anymore. We tried being discreet but our parents were not stupid and knew what happened behind closed doors.

-It sounds like you were very much in love, what happened for you to break up?

-He just got a very important job for an American Bank thanks to a friend of his father's. We were supposed to move and live there together. But my dad died and we found out about the disaster that was our financial situation. I went from careless nerdy girlfriend to grave and troublesome girlfriend. Bohemian life made of love and clear water is a good ideal, but he was not ready to face my pain and my problems. I had to let him go.

-I am sorry, Thomas said simply. You need a drink more than I do.

I could feel he was looking for something to say to make me feel better, but could not seem to find adequate words. I did not hold it against him. What could you tell someone when the love of their life did not love them enough to get them through the most painful moments of their life?

I however decided to write Jules a letter and show him all that was weighing on my heart and tell him how much his decision had hurt me.


	7. Chapter 7

Dearest Jules,

 

 

It's been almost a year that I am trying to find a way to say what I need to tell you. It is only today, in this small attic room, that I finally found the strength to open my heart. You are thousands of kilometres away from me but still my hand tremors as I am writing those words. I lied to myself for to long about our relationship and the bond that we had. I was convinced I was not in love with you, that we were together because that is what the world expected of us. Only, I understood not long ago that I did want you. I loved you, and I still love you. I did not want to see that. It was easier to hate you for the way you ended us, than to admit you broke my heart. Because yes, when you left, my heart left with you. You left me alone with my pain and a gaping hole in my chest. Since, I am trying to heal my wounds, but I can never be better as long as this situation is not addressed.

I asked your mother for your address and I see you decided to live in the apartment we had chosen to live in together. I do not know if I should appreciate it or not. Did you make this choice because you do not care or out of sentimentality? I lived through very complicated times these last months, but each time you were in my thoughts. Often I dreamt of stabbing you with the sharpest dagger I could imagine, but I also missed you more than I can say. Any time I thought myself in a dead end, I could see you adjusting your round glasses up your nose and whip out your notepad to set up an action plan to help me out. You know I have no family left, but I still have you, the one I have always loved. You have always been a part of my family, of me. You were the one that knew me the best, you knew all of my best hidden secrets. The hatred I had for you was no more than my will to survive, to succeed, to show you how much I do not need you. So you would feel rejected just as much as I felt rejected.

But I know today that I do not need you or your approval in my life. I still have a long way to go to be done with my problems, but I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. And all of that I owe only to myself and the people I met on my own and not through someone else. I am strong and independant. And it is a little bit thanks to you, you always gave some credit to my opinions and ideas. Next to you, I always felt like I was important.

I have to tell you how much of a jerk you have been. I expected the man I loved to support me and be there to help me through my pain. But you chose to drop me for a job across the world, as far away from me as you could get. You have been a coward.That is the best word I can find to describe your behaviour. Cowardness. I have been so incredibly disappointed. And still, I love you. I always will. Even though you always will be in my hart, I think I am now ready to let you go. I do not want to hold on this hatred anymore, so I accept that the two of us are done, and wish you all the happiness in the world.

 

 

Caroline.


End file.
